An Unselfish Act of Bravery
by The Lantern Tavern
Summary: A tribute to midshipman Clayton. This story takes place just before Clayton clubs Horatio in “An Even Chance”. Rated T for slash references.


**An Unselfish Act of Bravery**

By The Lantern Tavern – I own nothing "Hornblower" or related and I don't make any money from this.

This is my first fanfic – Hope you enjoy!

As he stood on the snow-covered deck of HMS Justinian, Clayton thought of a certain midshipman and of those words said. A chilling January breeze met his face and he felt as cold as he never had felt before. No gin could warm him.

The sea and sky had the same gray tone of colour; it was different to tell one from the other if the horizontal line wasn't visible. The misty outline of the faraway shore could just be seen as it hinted its own presence with onyx coloured cliffs. The sea was calm. The snow had stopped falling hours ago leaving a thin layer on the deck. Clayton thought the colours as an interesting combination – the symbolic black and white, a reminder of good against evil.

In his gaze he caught the eyes of Jack Simpson who gave him an evil glare in return. Clayton knew Jack was angry at him for assisting Horatio in the forthcoming duel. Jack never suspected that Clayton would have the nerve to stand against him in this treasonously manner. And Clayton would have stayed neutral if it wasn't for those words Horatio had cast on him with his gloomy future cast.

"Yes, the dice had been cast" he said silently but determinately as he followed Simpson with his eyes; he was sitting comfortably in the boat that was destined to take him and his assistants to shore.

It wasn't fair. He felt disgusted. Disgusted that he wasn't anything but a tool Simpson used whenever he saw fit... Horatio shouldn't meet his death this way. He had a strong willpower – he knew the night when Horatio met Simpson that something bad would happen. It was foolish of him to fight Jack in this challenge. He had seen Simpson with a gun. Simpson should, judging by his excellent skills as a marksman, have joined the army instead of the navy. But then again he wasn't of noble birth. As far as Clayton suspected he could have been illegitimate and His Majesty's Royal Navy wouldn't care – that's probably why he joined in the first place.

He had turned this everlasting Limbo to a never ending Hell with his presence. He tortured everyone he had a hold over. Every midshipman in the mess was at his mercy. He had his own sadistic way of terror, Archie, was the one who knew this all too well. Clayton couldn't forgive himself. If only Archie told him earlier... If only he had told him earlier he would have stopped Simpson somehow... he would have told the superiors – even if he alone would have to give evidence at a court-martial. He would love to see Simpson swing from the yardarm. But what would Simpson say in his defence? Would he defend himself by pointing the finger at _him_? He would certainly take Clayton with him, because he knew what Clayton did with some of the lads when night made its entrance on board the ship.

But it was different with Archie. His love to him was platonic and unfulfilled. Clayton doubted if Archie even knew of his feelings. Yes they were close and if Archie had feelings towards him he did nothing to show them. Maybe it was for the best if he never knew.

Clayton had known him long before they got transferred to Justinian. He was attracted to the open minded and well-spirited young man. At the time Archie wasn't close to the other midshipmen and yet the change he had undergone had become obvious to everyone around him. Archie had always had a high self-esteem. Maybe that was the reason why Simpson chose him... instead of... "Me" he said sorrowfully to himself, as low as he could so no one could hear him.

Sometime after Simpson had his eyes on him Archie started having fits and kept to himself whenever Simpson was around.

"You bastard!" Clayton cursed as he saw the image of Simpson appear in his mind.

Clayton turned his gaze away from the water at larboard side so the distanced crew wouldn't catch him staring at the murky sea. He knew something had to be done, something that could save both Archie and Horatio. Yes he would do this for Hornblower's sake but also for the one he loved. If he succeeded in killing Simpson, Archie would be free – and if he didn't succeed? There was a chance but he would risk losing everything in the Almighty's hazardous game where everyone was destined to lose beforehand.

The boat was out of sight. Clayton took yet another sip of his flask. The gin made his lips sting – nothing to compare to the pain Jack had inflicted on him some time ago. Hether and Cleveland, those bastards, couldn't make their own choices. They chose Jack, not because of friendship or devotion, but of fear. Jack loved to be feared, it was the only way he could feel good about himself. Clayton pitied the lot.

While standing on the deck he got an insight and an answer to the questions he asked himself while trying to sleep at night. He didn't fear Jack anymore. The fear had disappeared. Horatio had made him see sense. Now it all seemed so senseless; them being on a ship with two captains. Why wasn't there someone who had the courage to stand against Simpson before this shambles got out of hand? Why a 17-year old boy?

Horatio was inexperienced when it came to handling a gun, and now he was sitting below decks with only one thing in mind; to kill "Nasty Jack" Simpson.

Archie was on the edge too; he knew Clayton was up to something. They had discussed the situation and Archie came up with a solution to end their worry: Horatio would be knocked unconscious, Clayton and Archie would then arrive at the duel and call it off by saying Horatio had met with an accident. But there was one unsolvable problem: Honour... Horatio Hornblower would forever be known as a coward – he was already known for being seasick when at Spithead, and Jack nearly destroyed Horatio's reputation with that vicious remark, when introducing Horatio to two lieutenants at shore.

Clayton took out a piece of wood from the mast made to secure rope and headed towards Archie, who had just come on deck. The wood, shaped like a little club, was it perfect for the purpose.

"Alright Archie, I'm ready", he said to the young midshipman, who was standing in front of him. Archie gave the club a nervous look. He then removed his eyes to the ones of Clayton.

"What are we going to do when y-you've..." he managed to stammer just before Clayton cut him off. "Archie, I must ask something very important of you", he said determinately and carried on "You mustn't ask any questions when – if we go to shore! Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but..."

"No questions, Archie... do you promise?"

"I promise." he said, not knowing the rest of the plot but sure something sinister was about to happen below decks. He would stand by Clayton by all means. It surprised him that Clayton needed to ask him that favour. But he knew the seriousness of it all: To attack a fellow midshipman and leave him behind when they were supposed to support him in his attempt to gain satisfaction.

"...And you've tried reasoning with him?" he asked Archie, just hoping there still was a better solution to be made.

"He's as determined as ever. He won't change his mind!"

"Alright, that just leaves only one possible solution." Clayton muttered calmly as he made his way below decks and leaving an even more nervous looking Archie following him with a gaze. "Wait!" he said, looking down towards Clayton, supporting his weight on the banister. He couldn't really speak of what he had in mind so instead he said "Make it quick... please" towards Claytons moving shadow, putting the words clumsily together as he spoke.

"I will, Archie. Don't worry... he'll be fine." He said trying to sound calm but he didn't succeed. Archie drew back from the banister and they carried on with their little scheme – more nervous than ever.

Archie looked at the hands on starboard side. They had just finished preparing the boat for the forthcoming journey.

He wondered whether anyone besides him and Clayton cared for Horatio's life – well apart from Captain Keene, obviously. The crew was getting bored after six months of waiting, the ship never leaving the British coast. If they weren't too occupied with some whores or playing jolly but hazardous games they talked idle gossip. They enjoyed the intriguing circumstances surrounding a duel and couldn't wait for the news of the outcome. Archie sighed. Sometimes nice and ordinary people could become really cruel.


End file.
